


Touch

by SilverArson



Series: Green and Blue [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Massage, Pidge is way too tense, lance is a+ with massages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 05:10:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12149301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverArson/pseuds/SilverArson
Summary: Pidge is tense from three vargas of coding, but Lance knows just how to help.





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

> I'll fix the formatting later, sorry! I'm out of a laptop right now (RIP Apollo, my love, no laptop can ever replace you). Someone mentioned they thought Lance would be really good at giving massages and I couldn't let that go.

Pidge rolled her shoulders back and stretched out the sore muscles before hunching over her laptop again. She'd been coding for over three vargas. Not because she needed to, but because the idea of formulating conversation and discussing insignificant pleasantries with another human being made her want to launch herself out of an airlock. Her laptop was much better company.

But the green lion’s hangar was less than comfortable. No chairs and only a cold, metal floor. Her back couldn't take much more of it. So she shut her laptop, enjoying the sound of the hard plastic clapping together, and went in search of a more comfortable place to code.

Lance basically screamed her name when she cautiously peeked around the doorway to the common room. “Pidge! Pidge! Pidge! I missed you!” He launched himself off the lowered couch and raced up to her.

Pidge tensed and felt it all through her sore neck and back. “Laptop!” she warned, hugging it close to her chest to protect it. Lance compensated by swinging around behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist—not even brushing the laptop with the sleeves of his olive green jacket.

He squeezed once and let go, only to wrap an arm around her shoulders and guide her to the couch. “Hunk is still on a mission with Keith and I've been bored out of my _mind_. I figured you needed some alone time but you're all done and can hang out now, right?”

Pidge didn't resist as Lance nudged her into a sitting position. “I’m still not up for conversation.”

Lance’s shoulders fell and she tried not to feel guilty. There was just never enough time for Pidge to spend by herself and she often stayed up late in an effort to compensate. Defending the universe meant a lot of group work, an unnatural amount of amiability for foreign dignitaries, and almost no time for personal projects.

The only reason why Pidge wasn't doing Defender things at the moment was because she’d yelled at Allura, and Shiro had sent her off to compose herself. He hadn't meant for her to isolate herself for three vargas, but Pidge took advantage of the punishment and still had every intention of dragging it out as long as possible.

“All right,” Lance said, offering a small smile and sitting next to her. “But if you still don't want to talk to anyone, why did you leave your hangar?”

Pidge flipped her laptop open. “I haven't found a couch I can drag in there. The floor’s not very comfortable and my back hurts.”

“Well that's no good.” Lance’s leaned over and rested his hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently. Pidge yelped and pushed her shoulders up to her ears, startling Lance in turn. He jerked his hands away. “Sorry! Sorry. I just thought a massage might help.”

Pidge blinked, trying to slow her jumping heart. After a few breaths, she answered, “O-oh. I guess it might.” Lance giving her a massage? There was no way her muscles would get any less tense.

Lance grinned and winked at her, which didn't help. “That's the spirit. Mind facing away from me so I can reach your back?”

Pidge didn't trust herself to answer and turned away without so much as looking at him, instead focusing on shifting her laptop to the cushion in front of her. She tensed again as Lance’s fingers splayed over her shoulder blades.

Lance’s thumbs pressed into her spine and rubbed outward. Pidge clenched her teeth and willed herself to stay completely still as he worked in small, slightly painful circles and arcs down her back and over her shoulders to get a feel for what he was dealing with. “Wow, Pidge,” he said, scooting closer. “You're _really_ tense.”

Pidge grunted and tried to focus on the laptop screen. What had she been doing when she left off?

Lance’s hands returned to her shoulders and the heel of his palms pressed in a few times before he returned to working his thumbs through the knots. Pidge forced herself to start typing something to at least keep up an appearance. Lance didn't know how to code, so he couldn't call her on fake coding like Hunk could.

But her fingers stopped tapping every time Lance pressed against a particularly strained muscle, which Lance _did_ notice. He didn't ever comment, just focused on the strained muscle with steadily increasing pressure.

After a few minutes of this, Pidge gave up on coding, deleted everything she'd just added, and closed her laptop.

“Now that you're not bent over your laptop, I'm going to massage your neck, all right?” Lance said, lifting his hands from the middle of her back as she nodded. His fingers rested in the curves of her shoulders and he gently rubbed the base of her skull with warm thumbs and worked his way down her neck, pulling the high collar of her shirt out of the way with his spare fingers.

“Lance?”

“Hmm?”

“Sorry for snapping at you earlier today. I mean, I snapped at everyone, but I'm still sorry. I'm just stressed, you know? Not that that's an excuse or anything. Just an explanation. But there's been a lot going on and I'm just really sick of people. Not people in _particular_ , like you're fine, but the idea of people is just awful right now.”

Lance moved his hands back to her shoulders with another hum to show he was listening.

Pidge took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “Why are there so many people in the universe? I just want my family and my friends. That's it. I don't like talking to anyone else.”

“Yes, you do. You're just worn out right now.”

Pidge sighed. “Yeah.”

Her warmed muscles felt considerably looser than they had when she first sat down. She let her eyes close part way.

Lance chuckled and Pidge tried to look over her shoulder at him. Lance didn't stop massaging though, so she couldn't turn around enough to actually see him.   

“Ah, stay still,” Lance said. “I was just laughing because you just kinda…melted.”

Pidge faced forward to hide the redness she could feel appearing in her cheeks. “Sorry.”

“Sorry?” Lance repeated incredulously. “You relaxing is literally the whole point. No need to apologize.” Pidge couldn't see him grinning, but she could hear it sneaking into his voice. “I just have magic fingers and a soothing touch.”

Pidge snorted. “Don't get ahead of yourself.” But it was true that Lance was really good at massaging. Not that Pidge had experienced many massages in her lifetime. All she really knew was his fingers felt good on her shoulders.

“Aw, come on Pidge, you like it. Just admit,” Lance said, leaning more into it.

Of course she did, and she liked _him_ too, but she was not going to admit her feelings towards him or even hint at it by complimenting him until she had irrefutable, empirical evidence that he had romantic feelings for her. No concluding hypotheses or any brash decisions (e.g. complimenting his talents and efforts, being obviously pleased by his company and attention, or _flirting_ ) until all of the data had been collected, analyzed, and proved to be in her favor.

So Pidge just grunted and closed her eyes.

Lance’s hands paused on the middle of her back. “You...don’t like it?”

Pidge’s eyes flew open. _Warning! Virus detected: Insecurity_. Pidge scrambled to turn around and look directly at Lance. “No! I love it!”

Lance blinked and Pidge felt the blood leave her face.

“I-I mean, I haven’t had many massages, but you...seem really good...at it.”

Pidge wanted to throw herself into the main turbine.

A smile spread over Lance’s lips and his blue eyes lit up like sunrise. Pidge’s heart skipped a beat and she reached up to pull at her hair nervously. The locks used to twist around her fingers, but not anymore. Now she could only pinch the short strands.

Lance sat up straighter, folding his arms proudly and closing his eyes. “Why, thank you, my dear lady. I have been raised in the art by the best of massagers.”

Pidge silently exhaled in relief. He hadn’t thought anything of her slip up. _No more using the word “love.”_ “And those people would be?”

“My sisters, of course. Now turn around again. You’ve still got a few knots in your back.”

Pidge complied, secretly relieved that he wasn’t stopping yet. His hands pressed into her back again with soothing, practiced motions. His hands felt warm. Leaving the hangar had been a good decision, Pidge decided as her eyes slipped closed again. This was way better than being alone.

***

_I can’t believe she said she loved it. She said she loved it. She said she loved it. She said she loved it. She said she loved it. She said she—_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Buy me a [kofi](https://ko-fi.com/P5P0BQ48)? :D Any donations are greatly appreciated and motivate me to write more.


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